


Salt Lake by Morning

by RunningAuthor26



Category: Yellowstone (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningAuthor26/pseuds/RunningAuthor26
Summary: This takes places after season 3 and is really just some disjointed scenes I had kicking in my head. Rip goes to Salt Lake in search of Beth.
Relationships: Beth Dutton/Rip Wheeler
Comments: 12
Kudos: 19





	Salt Lake by Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to piece them together to a semblance of a plot, but it's flimsy. I just enjoy their non-verbals so damn much, and that's what I tried to concentrate on more. 
> 
> Please leave any criticisms or suggestions for improvement if you wish!
> 
> *runs away cheering "SEASON 4! SEASON 4! SEASON 4!*

Rip rolled the truck and trailer into the parking lot outside the barn and took a deep breath. Damn it had been a long day, and it wasn’t even mid-afternoon. He left before daybreak to get some supplies for the ranch and drop off a gelding at Ingram Ranch over in Bozeman. Those Bloomer trailers might be the most stylish, but damn if they didn’t suck up every horseshoe nail from two miles in every direction like a magnet. This day just wasn’t for him; he’d been thinking about Beth all day and truth be told was worried about how withdrawn she had been lately. A quiet Beth meant a storm was coming, and her storms could make a hornet look cuddly. He’d tried her on her cell a couple of times but went straight to voicemail. Since the bombing he had tried not to be overprotective and he was well aware of the line not to cross but all the same. He was worried. 

Ryan came out to help him cross load the supplies from the truck to the barn. He noted the mutilated tire in the bed of the truck and pressed his luck with calling Rip on it. “Get in a fight with another tire today?” Rip just responded with a grunt and switched his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. Ryan considered that response a win so he went on to say that Vigo had come by looking for him earlier. “I told him to try your cell, but he said he wanted to tell you in person.” That got Rip’s attention. He stopped and looked at Ryan, “He let on what it was about?” 

“Nope, and I knew better than to ask.” 

“That’s fair. You mind finishing up here?” Ryan just nodded. “Thanks. Say, you seen Beth around at all?” 

“Not since this mornin.’ She got Vigo to take her somewhere not long after you left, but I haven’t seen her since.” 

Rip adjusted his stance and put his hands on his hips. “Motherfucker, next time lead with that.” Rip didn’t wait for a reply, he just turned and walked with purpose to the hangar. 

Vigo was at the far end with his feet up on the desk, leaning back in his overstuffed chair, and watching some dipshit on the news. When he saw Rip he immediately stood. His body language communicated nervousness to Rip which put him further on edge. 

“Rip…” Rip interrupted, “Vigo, what’s goin’ on. Where’s Beth?” 

“She had me take her to the airport this morning, said she’d call me this afternoon to come get her, but she never called.” 

Rip was starting to come unhinged, barely holding on to his composure he asked, “She say where she was going?” 

“No, and I didn’t ask.”

“Mmmm...seems to be a lot of that going around.”

“Now I wish I would have.” 

“Yeah well, 20/20 thinkin’ doesn’t do anybody any good.” He patted Vigo on the shoulder as he turned towards the door and thanked him. 

Vigo called after him, “You know where she went?” 

Rip didn’t turn around, just kept walking and said, “Yeah Vigo, pretty sure.” 

Silently he prayed that she wasn’t in danger; to himself he quietly said, “what have you gone and gotten yourself into this time, Beth.” He grabbed one of the Polaris’ up at the lodge and drove to their cabin. As he threw some of his stuff in a bag, he absentmindedly took inventory. From the looks of it, Beth hadn’t packed a thing. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. What he did know is the unsettled feeling in his stomach wasn’t going to go away until he laid eyes on her and knew she was safe.

When he returned to the lodge, Mr. Dutton was waiting on the side porch for him. They met each other on the edge of the gravel but didn’t exchange words, just acknowledged they were on the same page with slight nods. Rip looked up at Mr. Dutton with what looked like a question in his eyes but said nothing. John held his glass of whiskey up high, but casually looked down at the ground.

“You don’t need my permission to leave Rip...never have.”

“Respectfully Sir, I ain’t askin’ if I can go. I’m goin’. I’m asking permission to take one of your trucks.” Mr. Dutton, with his hands on his hips, briefly looked at the ground, gave an incredulous grunt, communicated through a half smile, kicked the toe of his boot in the dirt, and waved his hand over the frontier. “Rip, everything you see here is just as much yours as it is mine. Take all the time you need, make sure our girl is safe, and try and bring her back, son.”

For lack of words, Rip unconsciously replicated John’s toe in the dirt kick, looked him in the eye, and said, “I will sir.” 

He started with determination towards his truck but stopped short and turned when John called his name, followed by, “You have any idea where she might have gone?” 

Rip squared up to his father figure and gave a slight smile. “One of the many blessings and curses that Beth has given me since the day we met: I know all the places she runs~near and far. I know where she is, Sir. If she wants to come back, I’ll bring her back safely. My point of going is to make sure she’s safe; bringing her back is on her terms.”  
Off of John’s look he added, “I’ll take care of her, Sir; that’s a promise. And this is nothing compared to when you sent her off to college. That was a challenge. Back then she was runin' just to run.” With that, Rip walked with purpose to his truck and drove away. 

Six hours later, he saw a red BMW parked in the visitor’s spot of Beth’s Salt Lake City condo. As her Mercedes was back at the Ranch, he eased his truck into her space, the familiar lump in his throat and sinking feeling that only one Bethany Dutton could give him returned in an instant. He couldn’t turn around no matter what or who was on the other side of that door. At this point, her safety had to be his main focus regardless if she had regressed to sabotaging their relationship like she was inclined to do in the past. He silently berated himself for even thinking it. The stoic “I don’t care who you fuck, Beth. I care about you,” persona was out the window when they promised exclusivity to them. Hell, it was never true anyway, he knew it; she knew it. Only difference is, it used to scare her enough to run to someone else’s arms. What did she say? “To take that good thing and make it part of me.” The logic in fucking someone else to evoke a goodness, a worthiness of allowing Rip to love her is so deeply and beautifully flawed that he’d laugh and walk away if anyone other than his Beth had said and done it. And to quote John, “...so deeply flawed...it just might work.” They got those horses safely down the mountain though, didn't they...

Things had been going so well for them since she moved into his cabin. They had made it their home not just in the day-to-day domesticity, but the sharing of things left unsaid between them for the last 20 years: the love, the pain, fear, jealousy, anger, and their unshakable guilt. It was after the bomb in her office when he found himself back on shaky ground with Beth. 

In the present, Rip smiled a little through the unshed tears thinking of when she first woke in the hospital. He had fallen asleep sitting next to her; his head resting on her hip and his left arm draped protectively across her thighs. She’d been in a coma for two days, and he hadn’t left her side. Rip felt the light weight of her hand on his head followed by a “I love you, Rip Wheeler, but you need a fucking haircut.” It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It meant she was going to be okay. Her recovery had been similar to the devastation following the Beck Brothers attack. She added the temporary but physical injuries to her already impenetrable armor to everyone but him. Rip listened to her tell him that most of them had to do with her needing him and him not being there. He held her while she dreamed of both of their worst fears. 

They were also perfecting the “no secrets” rule, that is, until she told him about their child and Jamie’s hand in making a decision that changed and dictated the course of their lives up to this point. Rip knew they were too young to raise a child; they were only children themselves, but adult Rip couldn’t help but think the child that never was could have healed the wounds of loss from “not being big enough” and “being scared.” What hurts Rip the most sitting outside of Beth’s condo is the look on her face. He was just so angry. His hurt was directed at her, but his anger was solely for Jamie. Unfortunately, Beth was the only one in the room.

She didn’t tell anyone where she was going, but Rip knew. He always knew where Beth would run to: Be it the roof of the lodge, his room in the barn, or in this case, Salt Lake City. He allowed himself a shallow smile; her college years were more of a challenge, but she always wanted him to know where she was. With a deep breath, Rip opened the door of this truck.

He trudged up to the front door and stood there with his head down, Stetson brim shielding his fear, thumbs looped in his belt on either side of the buckle, when the door opened. “I wondered if you were going to sit out there all night.” He finally let the tears well in his eyes even if they didn’t fall. His whole world was standing right in front of him, wearing his favorite Wrangler shirt that he’d been missing for years. He had his suspicions where it went, but he never said anything. He was so overwhelmed that he couldn’t move. He didn’t have to; Beth wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face below his jaw and whispered, “I knew you’d come.” She took his hand, led him inside, and silently closed the door.

Her apartment was just how he remembered it; even smelled the same. Of course it did; it reminded him of their house back at the ranch, and his heart ached for something he didn’t know if he had anymore. Rip still hadn’t spoken a word. In silence, he followed her into the kitchen and watched her (like he had so many times before,) pour them both a double of whiskey...her way of letting him know she didn’t know what to say yet either.

As she handed him the lowball, she stepped towards him. She was so close he allowed himself to put his arm around her and place a lingering kiss on her forehead before letting the amber liquid burn his throat, thankfully warming his unsettled and empty belly at the same time. She leaned away from him, wanting to look him in the eye but not lose contact. “Why did you come, Rip?” He drank the rest of his whiskey quickly, placed the glass on the counter, pulled her into him, sucked in the spicy coolness of the dueling booze and cool air, and replied, “That’s my favorite shirt, Darlin’.” 

Beth let out a half laugh/ half choke and relieved cry that she didn’t know she had been holding. Rip softly stroked either side of her face as his hands came to rest in her hair, “because there is only us. I had to see that you’re ok and hope against hope that we are…or will be okay. I didn’t come here expecting anything from you Beth, I just want to say that I’m sorry for taking my anger at Jamie out on you.”

“I didn’t leave the ranch because you were angry, Rip. You have every right to be; I know I am. Knowing that my fear resulted in us not being able to have children…Beth trailed off trying to find the words. When they didn’t come to her, Rip pulled her into his warm embrace and soothed her unspoken fears. ‘I’m sorry’ are two words she never has to say to him, but he feels them radiating from her anyway. For just a moment her hug is one of regret held together by a protective barrier of the old Beth whose acerbic insults and brazen behavior thinly masked her pain and fear. Rip breathed into her hair, “I love you, Beth” and she clung on to him for dear life. “I love you too, Rip. I shouldn’t have left. I needed to, but I should have talked to you about why.” 

“You wanna’ sit?” As he led her to the sofa, she watched him as he took his jacket off, then his hat, followed by him running his hand through his hair with a deep sigh. She cherished these moments with him. He had always made her feel safe, since the day that she met him. She quietly thought to herself that she owed it to Rip to tell him the same but was interrupted by his silky and protectively deep voice: 

“Want me to light a fire?

As if she didn’t hear him Beth asked, “How long can you stay?” 

“I’ll settle for what you’ll give me.” Beth smiled her first genuine smile since before the bombing in her office. As Rip lit the fire, Beth went to the kitchen, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and settled back into the sofa. Rip joined her and pulled her into him; he knew it was going to be a long night so he let her set the pace and direction she needed it to go. She picked up his hand and held it in between both of hers as she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. 

“I guess I’ll start with the meeting in Helena. You know the dick measurements and power plays that were thrown around the room, but it was Jamie who threw the curveball, pointing out that even though I am the executor and have power of attorney of the trust which holds the ranch, Montana doesn’t recognize it as legal because it was ratified in Utah.” Collecting herself, she paused. “Does that make sense?” Rip grunted and half nodded his head upward. He knew this part already. “Mmph, go on Beth.“ She burrowed further into his warmth and continued. “Your cabin is only stipulated in an amendment to the trust. Montana doesn’t recognize it.” 

Rip was haphazardly running his fingers delicately through her hair, urging silently for her to tell him everything. She nestled into his chest and continued, “During my recovery I had a lot of time...in my web, (she reached up and quickly and playfully kissed his cheek) to make plans. After clearing out my office I was going to come home and outline everything to see how you felt about it.

“In an instant my future was gone, my life with you, destroyed”…Beth started fumbling with his fingers again. “If I had died,” Rip physically winced at her words, causing Beth to repeat them, “If I had died, Rip...would Jamie take your cabin from you? Would you move back into the bunkhouse? Leave the ranch? I promised to help take care of us, of you, and at that moment I realized I had done anything but. I wanted to take a meeting with my attorney here in Salt Lake. Turns out we have nothing to worry about; Jamie was just being a self-serving asshole like he was born to be.” Rip saw Beth’s eyes change which meant that she was uncomfortable for some reason. He recognized she was about to divert the conversation to safer territory.

Rip silently watched as she poured them both a dram of whiskey. Beth looked into his eyes and saw concern and the fear in his heart. She turned to face him, legs still curled up by his side, held her glass to his and said “to us, Rip and Beth Wheeler.” They held each other's gaze, Beth noting Rip’s eyes flashing from fear to warmth. He gave her a smile that he reserves only for her, cleared his throat, “Beth Wheeler, huh?” “Yeah baby, I’d like to think we’ve come a long way from me signing “Beth Wheeler” in my ninth-grade notebooks.”

“C'mere honey.” Rip pulled her fully into his lap and tenderly kissed her with all of the words he wanted to say but didn’t know how. Beth deepened the kiss, communicating right back that she understood, and she wasn’t going anywhere. He broke the kiss and brushed her loose hair out of her face, searching her eyes he finally had to ask, “Why did you leave Beth? Why did you leave without telling me? Leaving me a note? A text message?” 

“Honestly Rip, I thought I’d be back before you got back from Bozeman. But then I got here, and a pressure I didn’t know I was holding was lifted. I couldn’t hear the ever-changing demands of my father, my guilt for my mother, my anger for Jamie, and I wasn’t worried about threats to the ranch; I all of the sudden didn’t have to be on the offensive and five steps ahead of everyone else. I could just be. I could breathe, and I realized...I’m just so tired, baby. It felt good to let my guard down and relax.”  
Rip was unsure where she was going with this line of thought. Was she thinking of not coming back? His face clearly betrayed his reluctance to share his fears because Beth cupped both sides of his face, briefly kissed him tenderly on his lips, and said, “Stop it Rip. I’m yours, and my home is wherever you are. Always. But...I lose myself in the ranch. I let the ghosts consume me. Unless it’s you and me in the cabin I find it difficult to breathe.”

Rip kissed her on the forehead, pulled a blanket over her shoulders, gave her a quick squeeze, and got up to stoke the fire. They weren’t in the business of asking each other too many questions, but the rough edges that the ranch cloaked them in were gone tonight. He untucked his shirt, took his boots off, picked up his whiskey and smiled at her. He took a sip, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, and straight up asked her. 

“So, what do we do Beth?” 

“Well, like I said, I didn’t mean to be gone this long, but it’s what I needed. Tomorrow I need to return that BMW to the airport…Rip cut her off, “that’s your rental in your visitor’s spot?” 

“I told you I knew you’d come. I didn’t want there to be a question that I didn’t want you here.”

Rip just gave a small smile as a sigh escaped from his nose, and nodded that he understood, then shook his head slightly, again berating himself for having doubts when he first arrived. Beth watched him and looked down briefly, allowing herself to share in the regret of his doubts. When she looks back up into his eyes, she purses her lips in a smile she only affords him and simply asks. “Ya hungry?”

“I was just thinking about that Chinese takeout place we had last time I was here.”

“Chou’s. I’ll get the menu.”

He follows her into the kitchen and leans against the counter as she orders their delivery. They always order the same thing, and it warms him that she remembers. When she hangs up the phone, she rests her head on his shoulder and wraps her arms around him. As he holds her tightly, he releases a jagged breath. “Nothing scares me more in this world than something happening to you, honey. I’m not asking you not to walk away from the ranch when you need to, but I am going to ask that you not make it feel like you’re walking away from us.” Resonating with his glistening eyes, she nodded, “I can do that.” Rip chuckled through his watery smile and said, “I don’t think I could take it, Beth. Honestly.”

Their kiss was one of an unspoken promise for their life together. The more it communicated, the more passionate and hungry it became. When Rip moved to her neck, Beth breathed his name on a whisper. He growled deep in his chest and lifted her up onto the counter. She hugged him fiercely with all of her limbs wrapped around him, letting him know that all of her was all of his. He ran his hands possessively up the outside of her thighs, pushing her shirt up a little as he squeezed her ass and drew her even farther into him. She grabbed his hair with intensity and hunger in her eyes, and pulled his head backward so she could have easier access to his neck. She worked her way teasingly down to his chest. As she caressed her way down with her mouth, her fingers were resting over the inside of the waistband of his jeans. She playfully scratched her way up his stomach. The dueling sensation was too much; he lifted her up with one arm, and took her to the sofa. As she landed, he had one hand cradling the back of her head while the other brushed down her right side to her hip. Beth arched into him, silently asking him for more contact. He pushed her shirt up, and just as he was about to take her pert nipple as his own, the doorbell rang. 

She laughed as she ran her fingers through his hair, he briefly placed his forehead on her stomach and shook his head, pulling himself together. “I gotta’ say, darlin.’ My appetite has changed.” She laughed again, but the smoulder in her eyes and jagged breath remained. Rip got up to pay for the delivery, placed it on the coffee table, and stoked the fire again ~ without question the only fire that needed stoking at this point. 

Beth took the opportunity to use the restroom while Rip went to the kitchen to get plates and a fork for him. Eating with sticks made no sense to him. When she returned to the living room, he was sitting on the floor between the sofa and coffee table, focusing on dividing their meals in half so they could share. She smiled as she silently watched him. He’d been sharing his meals with her since they were kids, and the thought warmed her to her core. He had also turned on the radio; the low country music filling the background, coupled with the crackling of the fire, and the love of her life who had, once again, dropped everything to come save her, sitting before her. Beth vowed to stop running from her past, to stop letting those ghosts consume her. Instead, she would fill them with memories like this one, of which she has countless to choose from... because Rip makes them for her. 

Beth sat down next to him and stroked his thigh with one hand as she opened beers for them with the other. She simply states, “Thank you.” Rip just kissed her temple in response. He knew she wasn’t just talking about the meal. When they were finished, Beth leaned into Rip as they both watched the fire in silence. Eventually she asked him again when he had to leave. “I’m not leaving until you’re either ready for me to go back or ready to come with me. Like I said, I’m here for your safety and that alone is all I got, honey. And I gotta’ say, I like gettin’ away from the ranch with you. Wouldn’t mind it happenin’ more often,” he squeezed her close briefly, “maybe it will help you, sweetheart.”

Beth didn’t say anything, she just kissed him tenderly then crawled into his lap. Facing him they hungrily communicated their need between each other. She repeated his words back to him, “you’re all I need.” She had her forehead resting against his as she spoke. In response, Rip ran his hands under her shirt and up her back, reveling in her soft warm skin. He caressed his way down to rest on her hips as she ground herself into his erection. Rip moaned into her mouth and once again laid her on her back. He kissed his way from her stomach up to her chest; as he lavished one nipple into his mouth, he ground his erection against her. It was Beth’s turn to elicit a soft moan. Rip caught her gaze, her eyes the deepest blue as he had seen them before, and he warmed himself in the heat they radiated for him. Beth whispered, “Rip,” the sound was stuck somewhere between a plea and a promise. He returned to her other nipple before slowly and with agonizingly teasing ministrations, worked his way down to her center. 

As Beth wrapped her legs around his back, she arched hers, dropped her head backward and breathed his name again. Her fingers danced their way through his curls, to his strong shoulders, caressing his muscles, as his tongue lavished her hungry clit. Her involuntary responses to his mouth had Rip so turned on he moaned into her folds and lightly teased her nipples with his fingers. His moan sent Beth over the edge, and she bucked wildly against him as he continued to love her until she lightly pushed his head away. As she was recovering and catching her breath, Rip gently kissed her stomach again and said, “My God you’re beautiful, Beth.” She laughed a breathless laugh and pulled him up to lie beside her; their bodies making as much contact as possible. Her playful and satiated smile reached her eyes as she kissed him and said again, “Thank you.” And again, he knew she wasn’t just referring to his pleasing her. 

He kissed her forehead, and whispered, “I love you.” Any strength for more words he might want to possess was taken over by his ever-straining erection, which he was trying his hardest to keep in check. Beth was making it better and so much worse by scratching her nails over his nipples and stomach. As soon as she was even near his cock, Rip was out of his jeans and boxer briefs to allow her easier access. She laughed softly into his chest as he just shrugged his shoulders with a smile. His head was on the floor, eyes closed when he realized she was no longer touching him at all. His hair stood up all over his body, a sudden chill brought on by missing her warmth…He felt her hands on his shaft; almost immediately all of him was in her mouth. She didn’t move yet, just let him adjust to the wet heat that was surrounding him. It was his turn to arch his back, delicately yet hungrily grab her hair and emit a sound somewhere between a hiss and a growl. “Bethhhh.”

She started stroking him with her mouth, circling his head with her tongue, his body involuntarily bucking; Rip was barely holding onto control. It was just so good. Replicating his pleasure to her, she continued to please him with her mouth as her nails ran up his stomach, over his shoulders, (Rip tried to focus on her hands to slow himself; his shoulders had always been a weakness for Beth, but thinking of how a benign part of him turned her on had the opposite effect he wanted.) He was so close. His tempo sped up as Beth continued to take all of him. He said her name again as a warning but she still didn’t move. Rip continued to breathe her name like a quiet mantra until he came so hard and so forcefully, he could no longer formulate words or thoughts. As he recovered, he absently realized Beth was softly kissing her way back up to lay beside him. Before she did, she ran her fingers down his beard as she kissed him on the mouth. “I love you too, Rip.” 

Satiated, Rip pulled a blanket over them with Beth resting her head on his chest, stroking his stomach absentmindedly. The only light left in the room was the slow burning fire. He was staring at the ceiling, softly stroking her shoulder and arm. His eyes were all she needed to read. Beth looked at him and simply said, “Tell me.”

Rip smiled at her and opened his mouth to speak but the only thing he could formulate was an exhale, so he closed his mouth again. She didn’t push, but laid her head back down and stroked his cheek with her finger. She had gotten better with everything not being on her terms, not great...but better all the same. Rip exhaled again but ended with, “I just…I just never gave much thought about moving away from the ranch. My loyalties only went outside the gate when you would, but I never thought we could be together if you didn’t decide on your own that you wanted Yellowstone to be your home again. I’ll hand it to ya’, it feels good to be with you away from it.” He paused then, Beth knowing he had more to say but knew he was choosing his words. After a pause he offered, “I guess I just thought we’d make a home there.” 

He was taking his time with his thoughts, almost like he didn’t recognize them, and he was waiting for them to come to him. “I gotta’ say, I’m getting’ tired of fightin’ for a promise I didn’t make, when that’s something’ that, in the end, doesn’t make you happy.” Rip’s words caught on an exhale again as he grounded himself by absentmindedly stroking Beth’s hair. He couldn’t remember the last time he had strung so many sentences together in one go, but he decided he needed to keep going or his words might never be said or heard. “I’ve dedicated practically my whole life to your father. It’s funny now, but I felt like I was taking care of you by protecting him and the rest of the family, a legacy that I wanted to earn to be a part of and belong to. That ranch is my life because your father gave me a life worth having. I owe him everything, and he owes me nothing, Beth. But…” Rip rolls onto his side facing Beth and props himself up by his elbow. “If I’m ever forced to make a choice of protecting that ranch and all it stands for or protecting you, well...the legacy will lose that hand every time, if that’s what you want me to do.”

Rip relaxed on his back again and pulled Beth into his chest. Returning to staring at the ceiling, he fell back into his comfortable silence. He took a cleansing breath that knowingly signified to Beth he was done sharing. Beth quietly said, “I’ve never deserved you, ya’ know.” Rip silently chuckled and patted her arm silently telling her to stop it. Finding her voice Beth continued, “No Rip, I’m serious. You’ve been so good to me since we were teenagers; I haven’t made it easy for you.” 

“Well, I’ll give you that.” Rip said with a smile that glistened in his eyes. Beth returned the moment of levity and continued, “Baby, that ranch and my father have broken both of us and put us back together so many times I think the land is intertwined with our DNA.” In agreement, Rip allowed himself one of his rare full laughs. Beth continued with a serious playfulness that only she could perfect, “there is something sacred about that I think, something only you and I can feel and touch. It was the first thing we shared, and I’m not inclined to give that up anytime soon.” Rip was giving her his “Bethany Dutton, you are a goddess. I love and cherish you so much just as you are that I’m about to bust a gut” look that used to scare the ever-living shit out of her. Instead she straddled him and stretched upward as far as she could reach, allowing Rip to admire every aspect of her. “I think I’m finally ready to go to bed, baby.” He honed in on the use of the word “bed” and not “sleep.”

Lightning fast, Rip had her secured to his torso by one arm as he pushed them up with the other so he was standing and she was still wrapped around him. He took her upstairs and placed her on the bed in a flash then bounded back down the stairs to turn off the lights, put out the fire, and grab his overnight bag. He heard her call, “Shower?” as heard the water start. He smiled a primal smile; she knew the answer to that question. 

Back upstairs, he threw his bag on the end of the bed and joined her in the bathroom. Previous trysts in this shower kept him going on bad days, kept him warm on bad nights, and kept him distracted on bad memories. It was smaller than their shower in the cabin which, to him, made their escapades that much hotter. As Rip stepped into the warmth, he allowed himself to admire Beth as the spray cascaded over her body. As she stood there with her eyes closed and (if he didn’t know better,) an inherently calm resolve, he waited for her permission to touch her. When she opened her eyes, he already had shampoo in the palm of his hand and a boyish wonder of a smile on his face. Beth leered at him playfully; as she turned around facing away from Rip, she asked, “Why do you like washing my hair so much?” 

“Because it’s romantic, and I’m really good at it.” 

He was awarded with a full and rare Beth Dutton laugh. “You’d be better at it if you weren’t so easily distracted.” Rip just acknowledged her words with a “hmmph.” His hands were busy washing her hair, but his eyes were relishing the suds cascading over the perfect curve of her ass. When his hands slowed, she purposefully placed her hands on the wall and arched her shoulders and head backward. “Focus, Rip.” “Mmm...I am focused, Beth.” She laughed softly and turned around so she could wash the suds out of her hair, knowing full well that the soapy water running off of her breasts would get Rip’s full attention. With her eyes closed under the spray, she felt Rip’s hand cup her right breast and his warm and tender mouth claim her left. Her own hair was forgotten as she ran her fingers through his, holding him to her. Reflexively her left leg ran up the outside of his right thigh. Rip abandoned her right breast and wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her closer and inviting her wet center to grind against the top of his thigh. Beth rubbed her wet folds up and down only once, mirroring his smokey eyes with hers and pulled slightly away. He leaned into the loss of contact; Beth held his gaze but picked up the shampoo bottle. He gave her an incredulous look and his shoulders slumped in what would be considered a pout if it was anyone other than Rip. He acquiesced with an amused look that just communicated “seriously!?” 

As Beth created a lather between her palms she responded, “what? It’s romantic, and you smell like horses and hay.” 

Rip threw his head back with a deep throated laugh, pulled her against him, he kissed the top of her head, and said through a chuckle, “you know you’ve always loved it.” He knew it. She knew it. It didn’t stop her from turning him around and washing his hair anyway. With Beth’s fingers massaging his scalp and her breasts gently kissing his back, she enabled Rip to release so much bottled fear that had tied his body up in tense knots. She guided him under the water to rinse his hair as she snaked her hands around to his chest and up over his shoulders. Rip reached behind him and stroked the outside of her hips and waist. She held him there, kissed his shoulder blade, rested her cheek against him and whispered, “I can’t wait to be your wife.” 

Rip dropped his head, clasped her hands in both of his, pulled them up to his lips, and slowly kissed them, and breathed a jagged breath into their joined fingers. He moved to turn around, but she held him in place. She didn’t need to hear his response to know it to be true. Beth kissed his back again then pulled back so she could caress the outside of his hips, the backs of his strong thighs, then over his chiseled ass. She gave both of his muscular cheeks a squeeze then moved around to stroke his cock. It was his turn to brace himself against the shower wall in front of him. He bucked as gently as he could: in and out of her confident grasp wanting to make this last as long as possible. When he was getting close he turned around and hungrily placed his hands on either side of her face, intensely claimed her mouth, but managed to tenderly rasp out, “how do you want me, Beth?” He reached down and delicately stroked her folds to make sure she was ready for him, eliciting a deep moan from Beth. She possessively raked her fingers through his beard, and kissed him, “you remember about five years ago when you drove down for my birthday?” Rip’s body answered for his memory as he sat down on the integrated tile seat, turned her around, pulled her hips over his shaft, and tenderly guided Beth until she took all of him within her aching and wet warmness. Neither of them moved, Beth leaned forward, bracing herself on his knees. With her facing away from him, Rip closed his eyes, rested his cheek against her back, and reached around and massaged both of her nipples. As he was regaining even a semblance of control, Beth started to move. She knew he was already close so she started slow with long and drawn out movements. Rip leaned back against the wall and wanted to love everywhere at once. The soft skin of her long back, her perfect ass moving up and down on him. God, she was beautiful. Beth began to pick up her pace and add a circular motion with her hips. As Rip’s breath quickened she stood up just briefly enough so she could turn around and take all of him again. He hugged her to his body and took one nipple and then the other into his warm mouth. Beth held him there as she threw her head back and picked up the pace even more. Her tempo indicated to Rip that she was close. He also knew that in this position to stimulate her clit with his fingers would be too much for her, so he pulled back and watched her as she lost control. Moaning his name louder and more frantically before she pulled him over the edge with her.

As Rip appreciatively kissed her temple, her cheekbone, the warmth of her neck, and her shoulder he rasped, “I also seem to remember you let me go out and get you breakfast in bed the next morning.” Beth laughed and raspily replied “that’s true, but that was before I knew you were such a good cook.” he internally chuckled and said, “Pancakes and bacon it is then.” 

Once they were cleaned up, Beth stepped out of the shower, grabbed towels for them both, and handed Rip her hairbrush; (he was a sucker for brushing her hair too,) As he took the brush, Rip wrapped a towel around his waist and motioned for Beth to sit down at her makeup mirror. As he gently brushed the knots out of her hair, Beth was putting lotion on her skin. They caught each others’ eyes in the mirror, and Rip bent down to place a slow and loving kiss on the top of her head, never breaking eye-contact. Beth sultrily leered at him and said, “Don’t think you’re going to get lucky again tonight. It’s the barn smell that does it for me, not my fuckin’ shampoo, Rip.”

As Beth finished drying off, she nodded at the overpacked bag that Rip brought, “I didn’t know you owned that many clothes to pack.” Rip gave his half laugh which was more of an exhaled grunt coupled with a smile. He didn’t say anything, just reached in and pulled out her favorite patchwork blanket from their cabin. Off of her look he offered, “When I packed...didn’t know if you wanted to come home so I brought a little bit of home to you.” 

She threw her arms around his neck and said, “All of the sudden my shampoo is turning me on. Take me to bed Rip, and tomorrow take me home.” In quintessential form, Rip merely responded, “I can do that.”


End file.
